


breakdown

by dickaeopolis (dicaeopolis)



Series: sugary [5]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Dom/sub, Edgeplay, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 10:32:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10852176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dicaeopolis/pseuds/dickaeopolis
Summary: Oikawa likes making him desperate.





	breakdown

**Author's Note:**

  * For [candyharlot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/candyharlot/gifts).



> hey? amanda? this is all your fault. all of it

“It’s actually kind of cute,” Oikawa muses. Mostly to himself; there’s no way Tendou can hear him over all his own noises. “Seeing you like this.”

It’s true, really. He likes seeing Tendou, always so snarky and ebullient, on his knees, with his wrists bound behind his back and his forehead smooshed down against the pillows, cherry-red hair falling soft and messy around his face. A pair of long ties stretch taut from his wrists to the headboard. It doesn’t look comfortable. Oikawa likes that, too.

Most importantly, his ankles are cuffed into a broad spreader bar, holding his legs open wide. That’s where Oikawa has situated himself, to happily work Tendou up with delicate, teasing touches of his fingers.

He could always bend him over, fuck him with brutal force - but Tendou would like that  _ way _ too much. Torturing him is much, much more satisfying.

Oikawa’s fingertip presses between Tendou’s folds, moving downward in one slow, even stroke. Tendou’s moan trails after the motion, rising to a sob as Oikawa stops just shy of his clit. His wiry muscles shift and flex under his pale skin as he tries to grind for more friction, but the spreader bar holds fast, forcing his legs open and utterly helpless to Oikawa’s wicked whims.

Oikawa grins.

“Want me to touch your clit, Sacchan?”

_ “You’re not going to do that,” _ Tendou rasps,  _ “you’ve been at this for hours already-” _

He’s right, although it’s only been half an hour. “Hmm, yeah. Want me to go down on you?”

_ “H-hate you-” _

“I can wait,” Oikawa tells him.

It’s a lie. Oikawa isn’t a patient person. He dips his index finger into Tendou’s entrance, circling idly - he really is soaked, nearly dripping.

Tendou makes a strangled noise. “I - fine,  _ yes-” _

“There, that wasn’t hard,” Oikawa coos, sickeningly cutesy.

It takes him a moment to shift, lying on his back and scooting beneath Tendou’s arched body. The spreader bar is cold under the back of his thighs, but as a plus, Tendou can’t move his legs at all anymore. And Oikawa has a lovely view of the freckles that dust Tendou’s chest and hipbones, and disappear into the trail of red hair down his abdomen.

Oikawa kisses up one inner thigh, and then drops a line of kisses along his outer lips, watching in mild interest as Tendou twitches.

“Color,” he murmurs.

“Green -  _ green _ \- holy  _ fuck, _ will you just-”

“Ask nicely,” Oikawa corrects him. His voice is slightly muffled in the crook at the top of Tendou’s inner thigh, where he’s nibbling and sucking lazy marks that send quivers and twitches up Tendou’s chest. Or maybe that’s the light flutter of his fingers between Tendou’s legs. Could be either - for someone who talks such a big game, the boy is ridiculously sensitive.

Tendou lets out a frustrated curse. “Fuck -  _ fine, _ Tooru,  _ please - my clit” _

Oikawa considers, and then, even though Tendou can’t see it, he smiles.

“No way.”

Tendou groans, too shaky to be threatening, and Oikawa  _ giggles _ into his thigh. But he still leans up, still swipes his tongue across his lips and sucks-

Oh, who is he kidding. He stops just shy of Tendou’s aching clit, close enough that he knows Tendou can feel his breath, and then presses the tip of his tongue into the dip just above the hood of Tendou’s clit, too motionless and far off to offer any real stimulation.

Oikawa is a little power-drunk, maybe. But judging by the high, desperate moan Tendou lets out at his cruelty, and the look on his face when Oikawa glances up - mouth lolling open, eyes squeezed shut, tears shining on his cheekbones - he thinks it’s safe to assume that his victim doesn’t exactly mind.


End file.
